


three months

by sabishikute (protoagaz)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, One Shot, how i think bokushi would actually be lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-03 01:39:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4081603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protoagaz/pseuds/sabishikute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've wanted to have a damn orgasm for three months now and you weren't giving it to me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	three months

It wasn't the bad jokes that bothered me. He barely made an attempt at humor for the most part, and even then it was mostly dark and I could just ignore it. Sometimes it was funny in an entirely unintentional way, almost lame. Not a problem, all in all.  
  
What bothered me was the sex.  
  
I'd expected something very good and maybe even pretty kinky when I'd started dating Sei-kun. He'd told me outright that his father banned him from dating and sex, and that he'd decided to pick me for both anyway - that was the first time I'd been on the receiving end of his famous "absolute" speech. Even beyond that, I'd found him more attractive than necessary for a few months anyway.  
  
For all that he was a year younger than me, I'd figured that he had to have quite the libido to go against his father's wishes so bluntly. The first few weeks dating him had been sweet with expectation. He would be my first, and I'd spent more time than I should have fantasizing about it.  
  
Finally he'd brought me to his house, one day when his father had been away on business. A lovely place, more of a mansion than anything else, and his bedroom was close to lavish. The bed had been comfortable and soft and warm, and I'd let him take my clothes off and laid down for him, hot and nervous.  
  
He'd been terrible. It was about him, to the point that he did nothing for me and I'd only barely managed to turn myself on with thoughts alone. He said nothing, touched me just to brace himself as he pushed into me and stayed there. And that'd been everything, just his thrusts, even and practically robotic, getting faster over what felt like two hours until finally he came and never even lost the rhythm.  
  
I wasn't sure why I didn't leave him after that. Maybe incompatibility wasn't enough to make me feel like we deserved to break up. I'd kept hoping at the same time that he'd get better. He'd been a virgin too, and of course he wasn't sure how. It wasn't as though every first time could be great.  
  
A week later, we'd ended up at my house, and it was all the same. Silence, undressing me, this time a few kisses on my body, and then the mechanical dispassionate sex. That time I'd been more horny, and feeling him pull out of me when he was done, when my own orgasm was still miles away, had nearly made me cry. He hadn't even stayed near enough for me to grab his hand and lead it between my legs.  
  
It went on like that for three months, one quarter of a damn year. Whenever he wanted me he'd call me, and I'd fall into it every time, and end up lying under him and trying to glean some little pleasure out of it. We had sex again and again and I never came.  
  
And I still wanted him.  
  
One day when I heard that smooth voice of his on the phone it all snapped. He wanted me to come over - he'd be alone in the house again - he wanted to do it. I agreed like I always did and hung up, and sat there with a plan brewing.  
  
I wasn't going to let him leave me hanging, not this time. At this point I was almost sure I knew more about sex than he did, what with the boring precision in every one of his movements; and it made me want to try taking over this time, with an excited ache in my belly that told me this was a very good idea.  
  
He met me at the door like he always did when I came over. His outfit was always some dull-colored blend of semi-formal clothing, and this time was no different: tan slacks and a white button-down shirt, a look that just added to the tension in me. We went through the formalities, said hello, and I kicked off my shoes in the alcove near the door and followed him up to his room.  
  
I should've been more nervous but there was none of it, nothing but wanting to get this going. "Sei-kun - " I cut him off before he started the next step, asking me to take my clothes off.  
  
The faintest bit of annoyance sparked in his expression, like it always did at my nickname, and then he hid it. "Yes?"  
  
"I wanna try something different today." I stepped closer to him, enough to make him retreat back toward the bed, bit by bit. For once I was close and not distracted by disappointment, and I could drink in the ridiculous brightness of his hair and the way both his eyes nearly glowed, even in their separate colors.  
  
His eyes narrowed at me as I watched. "What would that be?"  
  
The foot of the bed was right behind us, the perfect spot and looking just as comfortable and soft as usual. His nightstand drawer stood open a bit; he'd have a condom in there, just like he always did. For the first time since my first time, arousal swelled strong between my legs at the anticipation.  
  
"I wanna lead."  
  
I pushed him back onto the bed in midsentence, and the realization came onto his face an instant later. It was easy to mount him and I felt the tension in his body as he tried to get me away. This was where having a few inches' worth of height and a few pounds' worth of weight on him came in handy; I held his shoulders down and felt something electric flicker through me at the thrill of touching him like this.  
  
Even after so much sex I barely knew how to kiss - it was something he didn't focus on beyond fitting his lips to mine and leaving it at that - but I'd wanted to taste him for so long and his face was still so close. There was an accusation in his mismatched gaze but I ignored it and leaned in and crammed my mouth to his. His lips were always soft and this time was no exception, even softer under my teeth when I tried to pull his mouth open. Instead I bit his lower lip and he made a noise in his throat, something very low.  
  
Finally I got his mouth open and fumbled to shove my tongue in, licking across his lips and catching the musky flavor of his skin. He didn't do a thing to respond, letting me trace his teeth with the tip of my tongue and push past to explore his mouth and taste his tongue. It was all black tea, that faintly coffee-like flavor, harsh and surprisingly fitting.  
  
His body was warm against my legs, so unfamiliar, and I heard myself moan, a sound I'd never made before. Kissing wasn't going to be enough. It was so much easier than I'd expected to lower my hips down against him, and the pressure of his body up against me was like a bullet from a gun shooting arousal through me. It was the sun instead of a lightbulb, what I was feeling in comparison to anything he'd ever given me before.  
  
I ground myself against him, almost automatically - how did my body know what to do? - back and forth, with the brush of our clothing loud in the soft carpeted silence. My clit was aching, a familiar feeling but worse than I'd felt in the past, pushing me on to rub harder and faster till I broke the kiss and groaned from the hot pain. Just the sound of my voice was enough to send heat down my arms.  
  
Bit by bit the shape of him got harder against me, so clear even through the pulse between my legs. I couldn't even get any closer but I pressed harder, digging my nails into his shoulders. The cliff's edge of my orgasm was so close, making my muscles twitch and driving all the breath from my lungs.  
  
I wriggled over just a bit to rub my clit on him, and it hit me the second I moved. The aching need burst up into a release, and suddenly it was harshly obvious how wet my panties were and how tight I was against him. Very distantly I heard myself gasping his name and then all my concentration was on what was happening to me, the heat of it and the spasms that came one after another and wouldn't stop. I hadn't ever thought it would hurt this much, or that there'd be so much pleasure.  
  
It took my eyes too long to focus when it was over, and all I saw was his face. His eyes were wide, watching me, that old faintly obsessive look in them; he was still hard against me but the tension was worse than before, all his muscles tight.  
  
"Just what do you think you're doing?" he said, quietly, with that deceptive softness to his voice.  
  
The afterglow was another thing I hadn't expected, the way something like dizziness spread over me like I was still on the edge of coming again. It filled me up with an irritation at him, not anger but close enough to make me as straightforward as he could be on his worst days. "I've wanted to have a damn orgasm for three months now and you weren't giving it to me."  
  
He raised an eyebrow and something about just the simple motion gave me a thought. "And the way you've been doing everything..." Suddenly it was easier to lift my hips away from him and slide down a bit and ignore the wet spot I'd left on his pants, thanks to my skirt leaving my panties bare. "I don't think you've been having any either."  
  
I half-expected him to shove me away the second I let go of his shoulders but he stayed still, and I felt his gaze searching my face as if looking for answers. Not like I was going to give him any in words. I slid my hands down to his waist and wiped the sweat from my fingers, enough to get a good grip and undo his belt and his pants.  
  
His dick nearly popped out the second I got everything open. I'd seen him aroused like this before, about the same level he always got; it was a little insulting, thinking that everything I'd just done was only enough to get him this hard. It wasn't as far as he could go, not by a long shot.  
  
My lips were abruptly very dry and I licked them, and for an instant the thought of going down on him flashed into my head, and brought the first hint of nervousness I'd had. Not yet. The taste of black tea was still so strong in my mouth, enough to deal with for one time.  
  
I'd never touched him before, and when I brushed my fingertips along his length the heat felt like enough to burn me at first. He made the same noise again, loud enough this time for me to realize what it was; a moan, choked off tight in the back of his throat. Warmth shot up my spine and I stroked him, up to his head this time. He'd never given me a chance to look at it before and now I took my time, studying the shape of it and tracing it with two fingertips.  
  
When I got to his slit he forced down another noise and I felt his whole dick twitch, just slightly. My fingertips came away sticky and I saw the wetness on them glinting in the light. This wasn't what I'd thought would happen - I'd been planning for something hot and fast, not this slow, not so much tight hollow need in the pit of my stomach.  
  
I rubbed my fingertips along his slit again, smearing the wetness over his head and trying to ignore my own wetness still growing between my legs. The coating on my fingertips made it even easier to touch him and this time I used my thumb at the same time, rubbing the other side of him in long strokes up and down. I hadn't even thought it was possible but he was getting harder under my hand, the heat of him growing.  
  
"That's - enough." His voice came out of nowhere, and I heard the strain in it. "I have had more than my fill of your going against me. Stop."  
  
I should have thought twice, respected him and backed down, or maybe my decision was the right one; even when I answered I didn't know for sure. "No." My fingers wrapped around him, just enough room left to rub my thumb across his slick head.  
  
"I told you to stop." He was quieter, with a deadly edge, and at the same time I could hear his breathing quicken, harsher in his throat. "You will obey my orders."  
  
"No." I pressed my thumb harder and this time he almost moaned, his eyes losing focus for a split second until he caught the sound and stifled it in his throat again. His breath caught and then he was nearly panting, trying to hide it and failing.  
  
A second later he pushed up against me, finally the fight I'd been expecting. He was strong from all the basketball - I'd known that already - and he almost got me onto my back, even with his dick still in my hand. Another moment and I got my shoulder against his chest and shoved him back down, and pushed the heel of my hand against his breastbone, curling my fingers around his neck.  
  
He went perfectly still and suddenly his breath was uneven, his eyes still wide but dull. I didn't stop to think about what it meant, not even when I tightened my fingers around his dick and it twitched again, harder. Now I was angry, the heat of it just adding to the desire.  
  
"I'm not going to stop," I hissed down at him. "You've been a robot ever since we started dating and I'm sick of it. I want you, Sei-kun, and I'm going to get you, and - "  
  
The sound of his gasping cut me off and for a moment I thought I'd accidentally choked him; it was only when I realized my hand wasn't even touching his throat that the understanding came. Every single breath was harsh and sexual and his eyes had no focus left, pupils dilated with desire. Suddenly it was easy to take notice of the way my heart was pounding, and the swelling between my legs again.  
  
"I...I told you..." he whispered hoarsely.  
  
In the next instant he wrenched free of me, with more strength than I could hope to match, and then I was flat on my back. His hands yanked my legs apart, pushed my panties to one side, and then he thrust into me, rougher than I'd ever wanted him to. It was worse without a condom somehow, sparking up pain for all that he slid in slick with his wetness adding to mine. Then he was moving, his hips jerking unevenly, again and again till he was fully inside and even then he didn't stop, grunting and gasping with the effort, as if he could push deeper into me.  
  
"I told you - " All the smoothness was gone from his voice and he punctuated every single word with a hard sloppy thrust. "I am - absolute. I - am right - in everything. You - obey - me, you are - mine - you do not - command me - "  
  
His voice cut off and he tried to stifle a groan but it came out, full of blunt dirty lust. His hands grabbed at my hips, his fingers bruising, till I heard myself whimper. Then he cried out, close to a low scream, and his movements quickened till he was pounding into me and all that was left was the pain and pleasure of it.  
  
I hadn't ever expected to feel his orgasm so clearly, even down to the heat spilling into me. It was what I'd hoped for and wanted, every single time for three months. The thought pushed me over the edge and I came, just as much of a shock as the first time. There was no breath left in my lungs to gasp his name and all I could do was form the syllables with my mouth as he filled me up.  
  
For another few seconds he kept coming, sometimes thrusting harder in short bursts, slowing down little by little until he was spent and pulled out of me unceremoniously, like I was used to. I was throbbing with it, still more swollen than I wanted to be, with my clit totally numb; I lay there and let the sweat dry along my spine and felt what he'd left behind trickling out of me.  
  
"You will not..."  
  
His voice trailed off till he was silent, and I knew I'd hit a gold mine.


End file.
